


Solace

by dirtyrattt



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Hearing Voices, Multiple Voices, No Romance, Other, Paranoia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyrattt/pseuds/dirtyrattt
Summary: Technoblade has voices begging violence after retirement. Things pile up, and it all snaps.But, there's a nice twist at the end.tw/cw: anxiety attack, voices, passing out.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> this fanfiction is for fun.  
> technoblade is not being shipped in this fanfiction.  
> this is a short story about his character, it has nothing to do with his real identity and it will stay that way. 
> 
> stay respectful to the content creators as people, fanfiction is fiction and please be aware of the content creators' feeling of being in fanfiction or being shipped with a member of the group they're in.
> 
> this made me feel powerful, enjoy the read.

"I'm not really bad, I'm just made up of bad things.  
I'm really not a madman, the voices keep asking."  
\- Day of the Dead by Hollywood Undead

《 °•○ ☆ ○•°》

Technoblade paced his room for what seemed like hours, everything seemed to shrink. Sweat slid down his face, almost forgetting to breathe - so he shakily takes in a sharp breath.  
The voices urged him to hurt someone, he wanted chaos. He wanted violence. They chanted and chanted.  
His body yearned for it ever since he retired. 

What he wouldn't give to just, start a war. Cause dread among the place, oh god, it almost seemed euphoric. He shuttered, his hands clenching and unclenching. He turns, looking at the boar's skull mask that rests mockingly, longingly on the nightstand. Technoblade stares into the eyes of the mask, voices in his head begging him to put it on and give in, force himself out of retirement and let go. 

His body felt so tense, like a rubberband on the verse to snap. He was even quivering, trying to pull his gaze away from the mask that sat on the nightstand next to the lamp that stayed in its dormant state. 

After a few minutes of strangled breathing and a hard stare his eyes watered, causing him to finally snap out of the voices' trance. He drops to his knees, scooting up against the bed. 

He sets his head back, sighing. He studies his wooden ceiling, the voices slowly slipping back in his mind, like tendrils slowly wrapping around his limbs and making him unable to move. 

He groans, "I'm not a madman, I'm not a madman." He tells himself, voice strained as his sweat continues to pour like florida rain. 

The voices mock him, they tell him he is. "Are you the madman? Are you the madman?" They persist. Techno hadn't realized his hand moved until he felt himself grip his shirt at the chest, dragging in ragged, face paced breaths.  
His anxiety raged, the world spinned, his nose and eyes burned, and everything felt closed in and small in his room.  
He felt tiny, insecure, but god did those voices not care. 

He felt insane, and as he began to feel he couldn't breathe, the world went dark.  
The voices stopped, his breath is silent. He awakes, on the floor. Techno looks around, pushing himself off the floor. The room hes in seems so vast yet so small, pitch black with a light illuminating where he lays. It's peaceful here. 

No more anxiety, no more voices, no more... violence. Just, peace, quiet, and nothingness. 

He stays in that sitting position, meditating for awhile. He takes the chance to go over his emotions, why he feels them. He tries to reach his roots in a way where he can comfortably stay retired without the nagging of the sounds in his head egging him on to destroy things, or people. 

Technoblade stays this way for awhile, relaxing and eventually theres a snap. He's on the floor of his room, drenched in sweat. He groans, anxiety gone. He wipes his brow, getting up and somewhat shakily making his way into his bathroom. He washes his face, grabbing clothes and taking a cold shower to get the sweat off. 

After the shower, he decides to take the skull mask and bring it outside with him. He sits on the grass, taking in his surroundings. Peace. 

Techno looks down at the mask, facing it towards him. It no longer looked mockingly at him, it was just there. The voices had stopped, and he sits back while resting his head against the house, looking up that the sky. "That's it. I'm not really bad, im just made up of bad things." He concludes, all the anxiety and paranoia of the voices, the beckoning and begging for him to wreak havoc are gone. Finally. 

He didn't miss the noisiness. He just let himself enjoy the outside for today, taking a small walk through the woods, watching bees pollinate and foxes run to their burrows. The birds sing, and the sky is clear with the occasional cloud. It smelt nice, he wonders why he doesn't do it more. 

Maybe he should after he farms potatoes, "It'd be a nice change." He declares to no one but himself. 

And just like that, he found his peace. His solace.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this little fic, it wasnt long and it's not meant to be. 
> 
> perhaps ill write some more, but we'll see how it goes.
> 
> remember to eat something, and drink water. stay healthy, you got this.


End file.
